Chaining Angels to Rocks
by Boreal Peat
Summary: They got a lead on a Prothean artifact that will be auctioned off among some of the galaxies more unscrupulous collectors. Shepard could come in with an alias and a bodyguard, but to keep the squad to full strength, Garrus will have to take a much more creative role as trophy-slave Archangel.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, nor am I affiliated with anyone in the production of Mass Effect, from BioWare, or EA. Though, you know, if you guys wanted to hire me on, I'd totally be down for that; I am hard working and people tell me I'm a good writer. Additionally!: this fic is rated M for Mature because only mature people can look at naughty words without going all "oh no, what is the world coming to, I am so scandalized that I'm going to write a strongly-worded letter to my senator" etc etc.

Don't worry; I still intend to keep on Glass Coffin. However, let me repeat that I have very little time in my life, what with 2 jobs and several projects that soak up my time (and video games, because if it weren't for video games, I wouldn't even be here). I wrote this all up in the meantime, and went ahead and wrote all four chapters out before releasing them, because I figure I shouldn't have you guys wait on the conclusion of this little story as well.

* * *

"Mr. Vakarian, the commander wishes for your presence in the Communications Room on the CIC."

Garrus looked over to the materialized blue sphere with a look that would have been annoyance if he wasn't just wasting time reconfirming algorhythms. "Did she say what about, EDI?"

"She did not specify. However, from the context of the meeting up to this point, I believe it will be for a mission briefing."

"Mission briefing?" he wondered aloud, but instead of asking any more questions, he quickly paired off the danglers in the equations he was working on and locked the terminal. He was being called into the middle of a briefing? As far as he remembered, they were going to Illium, and considering what was planned, it would be unlikely that the briefing would happen while this far out.

The unreasonably long elevator trip to the next level had its advantages; they'd taken care of Sidonis, and now that he's had a little time to reflect on it, he wanted to thank Shepard and, well, tell her how much he appreciated her being back. And for being there for him when he needed it. He had hoped it'd be when she next did rounds, but before a sudden mission was as good as any given the circumstances.

When the doors opened and he entered, he expected to see people there along with Shepard, but he expected Miranda or maybe Jacob. Zaeed and Katsumi were leaning against the table instead, still involved in what seemed like a heated discussion with Shepard. When Garrus entered, they stopped to look at him and greet him in a way that told him he must have been the subject.

"Garrus," Shepard said and motioned him next to her. "Zaeed brought to our attention a very rare opportunity for us to take advantage of, but it's a little more complicated than what we're usually up against."

"More complicated?" Garrus couldn't help but snort, "We're already doing the impossible and looking good while doing it. I'm having a hard time imagining anything farther than a typical mission under your command."

Shepard gave a guarded smile. "I'll grant you that. Zaeed, why don't you bring Garrus up to speed with your idea?"

"Right," Zaeed started, then over-straightened from where he was bent to knock out a kink in his back. "I got some information from an old contact about a nice, intact artifact that sounds suspiciously prothean. Of course, this information being what it is, instead of going to a respectable museum or university, it's up on auction at an Invitation-Only gathering with those invitations going to some of the less scrupulous, but nevertheless wealthy people of the galaxy."

"Seems like the perfect party for us to crash," Garrus returned.

Kasumi smiled. "It is at that, and it's lucky for us that we have Alison Gunn-" She gestured to Shepard. "-here to request an invitation, since she's now picked up a hobby in collecting rare and illegal things. And we got the response from them just before we called you up. But, of course, even if Ms. Gunn brought in a little muscle, being armored for the inevitable and a full squad with her would make her stand out in a way we don't want."

Garrus stopped her right there. "Wait a minute, you're using the Alison Gunn alias? Hasn't that one already been used out? The last thing we want is Shepard falling into a trap with some slavers again."

"Yeah, well, the galaxy is a big place," Zaeed supplied, "And illegal operations have redundant databases all over the place; not because they don't pay attention to basic database theory in school, but when a spot goes dark and records have to be destroyed regularly to keep lines from being traced, some reference errors are bound to occur. A lot of places hardly update their files more than once a month, this one included."

"Huh. Wish I knew that in C-Sec; would have saved me time when consolidating files. So, what, I'm Alison Gunn's bodyguard?"

"Not exactly,"Kasumi butted in, but she had a very curious grin on her lips. "The commander still has to choose who plays that role, though the choice will probably Jacob or Grunt. If I had any vote in it, I'd say Jacob's the best choice, there."

"What the old lady here needs is more than a gun at her shoulder. Alison here is an aficionado of rare, illegal goods, right? At these kinds of parties, it's pretty much given that she's going to be showing off what she's got, and what she's got is a One-of-a-Kind Turian Merc-Killer."

Garrus's mandibles flattened. "Wait, what?"

"That's the difficult part," Shepard said, frowning with him, "I wouldn't be outright saying it, but heavily implying that Archangel is not only alive, but my trophy-slave. You'll be able to wear your armor so long as you're wearing a collar and not carrying a rifle, but…" She shook her head. "I won't order you to agree to this mission. You might not be comfortable with all the duties or risks associated."

Kasumi piped in again. "It isn't just that you're Archangel; I happen to know that attractive turian males are very popular among certain circles of slavers. One that's a little banged up might lower in price, but if he's banged up because he survived a rocket to the face, well that's a special kind of collector's value."

Shepard scowled at that. "It's your decision, Garrus. If you want, I can have you as my bodyguard instead, or you can opt-out the mission entirely, though it'll mean fewer boots on the ground. I fully expect this mission to get messy, and we won't be the only ones with guns coming."

Garrus thought about it for a moment. Shepard with minimal back-up… he didn't like the idea of that. And in some situations, her bodyguard wouldn't be allowed to follow her; that was often the case in underground auctions to have weapons and those hired to carry them checked in at the door for some events. But slaves were expected to follow; after all, who would suffer a rich degenerate to be without his man-servants and arm-candy? "So, you want to have your very own Archangel in the original packaging? Not exactly what I expected to do with my resume, but I'm in."

Shepard gave him a surprised, wry smile. "If you're sure."

"Positive. I can't let you strong-arm yourself into an illegal auction and start stepping on all the toes _before_ you shoot them off, can I?"

Would it be strange to say he liked how she beamed with reassurance when he said that? Surely one can be glad to sell themselves out to some dangerous criminals if it meant having their CO smile.

"Well, then, let's prepare our trophy for viewing." Kasumi started pushing Garrus towards the door. "Shepard, you go ahead and get ready with that little black number from before."

Zaeed shrugged. "I'll go brief the Krogan in the cargo hold." He sensed Kasumi's glare from under her hood and rolled his eyes. "Hey, she's supposed to have an uppity turian slave that terrorized Omega for two years, so unless we plaster 'POWERFUL BIOTIC' on Taylor's head, Ms. Gunn's going to have to carry someone to be able to handle it we want anyone to believe this scenario."

Garrus had a feeling Kasumi might have had a response to that, but instead she ushered Garrus on out.

* * *

Being on the shuttle without his weapons felt strange; being on the shuttle with this uncomfortable piece of metal looped around his neck and no familiar HUD readout from his visor in his eye felt even stranger. Shepard, to her credit, was sitting in a laid-back position in the skin-tight, waist-wrapping civvies she wore. Perhaps too laid-back, since the open gap in the skirt from where her legs spread was too casual to be proper (he supposed), but too dark to be intriguing. Well, maybe it was still intriguing, but he still couldn't see anything. Then again, he wouldn't suppose human women would store light emitting diodes under their skirts.

_Well, why the hell not?_ He wanted to joke. _There are some curious turian men who might want to know a little more about… Hmm, perhaps it's best not to follow _that_ reasoning too far._

Grunt, on the other hand, seemed as typically anxious to get into the spirit of killing things as usual, which may be a while considering how these affairs tend to run. Garrus almost envied that; instead he was going to be referred to in the third-person all evening and almost certainly harassed—he hoped Alison Gunn was at least the type that didn't like people touching what belonged to her—never mind that he'll never be out-of-character long enough to have a decent goddamn conversation with her about what happened. Maybe he should just go ahead and blurt it out so it doesn't gnaw on him all evening. "Shepard."

She looked up at him. "Hmm?"

"I just wanted to say… thank you. With your help with Sidonis."

"Oh." Her eyes widened very slightly, and her posture straightened up. "We never had a chance to talk about that, did we? I'll admit, I had some doubts about it when I was up there."

"You had nothing to worry about," he assured her. "Shepard, you know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were more worried about what will happen to _me_ on this mission, and I'm not the half-naked one."

She huffed a little. "I can't help but to think I'm forcing you out of hiding, and I know that can be dangerous. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"You never have to worry about making me uncomfortable." He stretched his mandibles at her. "Though, I _would_ be lying if I said I didn't feel a little nervous."

* * *

It took two transitions with two more shuttles, just to be safe, before they finally docked and walked up to the doorman. There were a couple people arguing with him in the front, and several loitering around for their turn to yell at him, but Shepard walked straight up to him, completely snubbing the asari arguing with him, and put on a haughty face. "Name's Alison Gunn. Me and my boys-" She gestured to Garrus and Grunt. "-are on the list."

Although the asari looked properly annoyed, the batarian didn't even raise one of his four eyebrows. "Alison Gunn," he looked over a data pad. "So you are. You, a bodyguard, and your toy over there. Nice armor for a slave, even if it's a little scuffed up."

"The scuffed armor is part of the package," she said with a knowing grin. He stood aside, and she beckoned her party to follow her in as she sauntered.

_Sauntered_.

That's exactly how you describe that gait she pulled out of nowhere. It wasn't like Shepard, but damn if Garrus didn't like seeing her hips sway like that. How exactly was he supposed to focus on hating his owner if he was too busy admiring the way she walked?

"I'd get a move-on, slave," the batarian doorman hissed, "or we might have to check you in with the coats at the desk."

He sniffed indignantly and stalked in. It looks like slaver culture would make up in the anger and resentment.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Chapter one.

* * *

Commander Shepard may be all stature and squared shoulders, but Alison Gunn was nothing but smoothness and serpentine hips. With how easily and fluidly she moved, Garrus wondered not for the first time how she could dance so badly when she could glide so well across a room. It was making his job to look like he didn't want to be there that much harder.

She was getting looks. He was, too, but the ones directed towards him seemed to be more interested in figuring out how he placed in here. Obviously he was supposed to be a slave, but his mistress seemed very interested in showing him off even though he obviously had some damage.

Shepard slid up beside him and pulled him down by the collar to whisper in his ear. "We got here too early, so we're going to have to mingle longer than we planned before they bring the artifact out of storage. I'm going to meet with another party in a private room to limit exposure. You're coming with me, and Grunt will be out watching the other guards, just in case."

He hammed up an angry growl, but signaled to the affirmative. Actually, it was a great idea, and the inevitable reveal of his identity would be less disastrous in a more controlled setting. He followed Shepard into a smaller room with muted lighting and a piece playing that would actually fool someone into thinking it was classy if there wasn't so much bass thumping. Maybe they had the subwoofer too high? He found himself seated in a table populated by a few other women and one man showing off their own prizes. One slave in particular was a drell whose black eyes looked so dead that he could have thought they were gouged out. He didn't want to think about how they got that way.

"Oh," a turian woman looked over Garrus with obvious interest from where she was lounging in the cushioned booth beside them. Her own pet (a human male, and the irony of the situation wasn't lost) leaned into her as she tilted her head towards Shepard. "My name's Lehaxa. I can't help but notice your handsome boy. Palavan markings and everything." She hummed a dual tone.

"I think so, too. That's why I picked him up." She looked over proudly at her feigned "purchase". Garrus gave an indignant look. She turned back towards Lehaxa. "Name's Alison Gunn."

"I'm charmed. My, it's a shame he's banged up like that. Could be worth a lot more without the scar."

"Oh, but I think the marks are what make the piece." She reached over without looking and ran some fingers lightly over the scars. Garrus was so off-guard, he couldn't stop the shiver that ran through him. "Sort of like the scars on the back of a fallen angel, you know? Just proves you of the authenticity."

"Fallen angel?" She wondered aloud.

"My boy here had a lot of enemies, and survived a rocket to the face just long enough for me to snatch him up from Hell," Shepard said pleasantly, and understanding registered on the other woman's face with a gasp. She eyed him again with a new appreciation, and when he sneered at her, deviousness stole all over her features and the hum in her sub-harmonics.

"Not very friendly, is he? You'll have to beat that out of him," she said, her voice chiming with humor.

"I'm taking my time," Shepard returned, "The slow process of... breaking in... a new one is something to savor."

"I won't argue with you there, but I don't see how you could keep your hands off him."

"Maybe I don't." Multiple soft fingers slid up the back of his neck, and it took everything he had to look vicious. Her touch felt so... so... Why didn't anyone tell him that Shepard was so soft? This was the worst scenario to find out how silky your commander's skin was.

His sneer did well enough. "Ooh, I don't think he likes being petted," Lehaxa said.

"Oh, he likes it." The fingers slid around and tucked under the joint of his mandible, rubbing the sensitive muscle and daring the teeth next to it to bite. He squirmed and growled, honestly feeling a little out of his depth here, and even a little annoyed. If Shepard could tell he was enjoying this more than he should, the least she could do is _not_ point it out! He was having enough trouble as it was.

The conversation continued a while, and at some point, Lehaxa whispered something into her human's ear. He bounced up immediately towards the bar to get drinks. Lehaxa herself, while she appeared to enjoy the aesthetics of males with her own race, seemed to have a preference for humans for how heavily she leaned towards Shepard and how close her gloved talons were to Shepard's bare thighs. The slave came back with the drinks, which surprised Garrus in that there were also enough for the slaves as well.

He eyed his own drink with a sneer and shot a pleading look towards Shepard, hoping she'd be the only one to see his dilemma; it was far too easy for the drinks to have been tampered with. She was scrutinizing her own glass before the Lehaxa leaned in to breathe something in her ear. Whatever she said, it wasn't enough for Shepard, who gave a curt "Not my taste," and slid it and Garrus's glass back towards the slave. The man looked flustered, since it was obviously not what his mistress intended, but Lehaxa shrugged.

Then she had the slave dump the two drinks. Always one to think of the worst case scenario, Garrus rifled through a list of potential drugs that could they could have spiked the drink with. No one was making any sudden movements after they were refused, so it seemed unlikely that it was something potentially deadly, but various chemical cocktails were still possible; it just depended on the intention.

The way Lehaxa kept looking at them both, he felt confident in narrowing it down to an extensive list of date-rape drugs. Garrus couldn't help but feel more worried for Shepard; she was unarmed until the rendezvous with Kasumi to get their equipment, and this woman most likely knew a great deal of "tricks" that could be used to subdue humans.

"Hrnph. I took my Hallex too early," the male batarian in the party huffed and pushed himself back into the black leather cushions. "At this rate, I'll be depressingly sober by the beginning of the auction."

Lehaxa grinned at him while an asari chuckled. "Just take more, sweety."

"Then I'll be too horny to listen to the auctioneer!" he hissed through his gravelly voice. "All these pretty bodies walking about being shown off, too. What's a man to do? Have all of you at least taken some sort of dosage? I hate being the only one it's working on; makes me feel like an old pervert."

"Miss Gunn here doesn't fancy it, but the rest of us—"

"Who?" He shoved himself up and pointed his four glazed eyes in their direction. "Well, that's a pretty couple." The eyes narrowed at Garrus. "Wait... could that... no..."

Lehaxa's mandibles grinned wide and she said something to the batarian that Garrus couldn't parse with the loud music. He responded with a ghoulish smile of his own and propped himself forward on the table.

"Brand new one, isn't he?" he said towards Shepard.

"That's right," she answered proudly, "And not a cheap one, either."

"I don't doubt it. Surely you wouldn't mind giving us all a look? It might get this party started."

"You're looking at him right now."

"No, I mean..." he pulled away a moment and plucked out something from a satchel strapped to the drell, then held it up. A little orange pill shaped like a hexagon, which Garrus could tell from here had a little symbol from the turian language.

Garrus felt his gizzard twist. He would have rather taken the Hallex-laced drink.

Shepard, however, wasn't as versed in such contraband. "What is that?"

"A little something to get the blood pumping. You know, loosens plates, forces erections, that sort of thing. The turians made it way back as something for erectile dysfunction, but it was found to cause extreme aggression and general loss of control, so they, of course, banned it."

The turian woman shrugged. "Might be a little early for that. He _is_ new."

"All the better," the batarian said. "He'll lose himself just enough to still be aware of himself and all the nice things he'll be feeling. I've broken in a few this method myself. No harm in trying it."

Garrus wanted to say that there was harm in it. The drug could cause hypertension, addiction, and had a bad residue effect. Long term abuse could result in various symptoms, including a disconcerting trend of serious seizures and strokes. He'd never used it before, so most of the big problems weren't an issue, but he sure didn't want to start.

"Alison" seemed to be unhappy with the suggestion as well. "I don't want to _spoil_ him just because he was lucky enough to come with me to a party. Hard enough keeping him in line."

"Believe me, he won't see it quite the same way," the batarian laughed and slid the little pill across the smooth tabletop. "Come on; there's still a while before the auction, yet. Let's enjoy ourselves."

_This is ridiculous, _Garrus thought. How was he supposed to stay on top of his game if he was going to get drugged? It sure as hell wasn't part of the plan. On the other hand, it would be suspicious for the character Shepard was playing to decline since displaying (and humiliating) her trophy was her whole act. He sneered at the batarian, but lightly tapped a signal against Shepard's leg under the table to indicate he was prepared to go forward with this course of action.

She hesitated but a moment before she leaned over, generously dragging herself so slightly against the table, to pluck the little pill from the purple alien's hands. Then, she slowly turned towards Garrus, pulled him down towards her by the collar around his neck, and slid it under a mandible and into his mouth.

The thing was bitter and he didn't hide how he gagged from it, honestly wanting to spit it out but knowing that the collar, if it was activated as Shepard was pretending it was, wouldn't have allowed him to. He looked hatefully down at her, and she gave him a cocky grin even if there was a little flick in her eyes that wanted to speak apologies.

"You all can't touch, though," she said, molding herself back into his stiff posture and sliding an arm around his waist. He let himself shiver since it was easy enough to pretend it was disgust. "He's all mine."

They agreed readily, and he let himself feel some relief; at least the rest of the party was going to keep their hands to themselves. And it wasn't like the drug was known for altered states of consciousness, so he most likely could perform his duties, uh, as readily as before. As for the inevitable arousal… well, he would have been thankful for his armor protecting his dignity. Any sign of inappropriate interest will no longer jeopardize the mission, and Shepard wouldn't hold it against him afterwards.

Still, he kept himself at military attention and let his mind wonder as he sat, which was something a turian who went through basic (i.e. every turian) knew how to do. The conversation they had, which he might have hoped could have some leads or insight into their illegal operations, were merely the banal complaints of rich people completely severed from the galaxy around them instead. Sure, they were more flippant with the subjects of murder and sabotage, but otherwise no different than people who frequented the Presidium.

Shepard took a moment during one of these conversations to start typing on her omni-tool, tilted such that it looked like she was engrossed in a private conversation, but conveniently within Garrus's line of sight. He glanced at it.

_I could have said you were allergic._

He felt the blood run out of his face in mortified realization. She absolutely could have; he should have let her instead of insisting on pushing forward. He sighed angrily, mostly to himself, and she chuckled. Another flash of orange drew his eyes towards the projected screen.

_I have to say, though, if I had to do this with anyone, I'm glad it got to be you. Though I'm afraid I might have more fun with this than I should._

He blinked dumbly and almost forgot to take his eyes away to keep from drawing attention. He wanted badly to ask what she meant by that.

That sudden displacement of blood was finding a new course of action in his body at that moment; the drug was starting to work, and he shifted his hips in an effort to shift his armor into a comfortable setting.

"Well," Lehaxa made a pleased hum. She noticed Garrus's change in behavior. "He's revving up, Ms. Gunn. What's your favorite thing to do with him? I'd like to see what tricks he's good at."

"I enjoy the way he squirms," she answered, and punctuated that with a hand running down his chest and over his groin, and squirm he did. He couldn't even feel her hand through the ceramic plate, but her closeness was doing ridiculous things to him. The other hand slid beneath his fringe, and he couldn't help but growl a low moan. She laughed a husky, bell-like tone.

Shit, she really was having fun.

"Snap off that codpiece," Lehaxa demanded, a little breathless, "so we can see _everything_ squirm."

Shepard did so with such speed that Garrus hardly blinked before the protective covering was gone. How the hell did she know how to unlatch turian armor? Did she… prepare for this before? She had a thing for turians? Maybe she even had a thing for him?

His nerves caught up with him there, such that he was sure he'd be shaking if he wasn't pressed into a couch. His mandibles were fluttering with apprehension that _Commander Shepard_ was not only molesting him in front of an audience, but was enjoying it because she wanted him. But this wasn't enough to curb the jerking spread of his lower plates, or the slow but sure emergence of his inflamed erection.

And though every person in that private room was staring, he was only aware of Shepard's eyes.

She reached over and lightly, teasingly, flicked a finger over the very tip of his head. He writhed from the small touch. "None of you happen to have some manacles on you as well?"

There was a laugh and a pair of electronic ones slid across the table. She smiled, grabbed them, and beckoned Garrus to rise. "Turn around so I can put these on, then sit in front of me. I'm thirsty."

His eyes were wide and he knew it; they felt like they could fall out of his head. Shepard was demanding to chain him up and then, from the sound of it, present himself to get a blowjob, a sex act he'd only heard about and damned if he hadn't more than once thought about the capabilities of her lips doing the same. He was so stunned, he nearly forgot his purpose there. Then, he barked out in legitimate anger that surprised him just as much as the order, "No."

Alison Gunn's face fell, then she sneered back at him. A hand went up to snatch his collar and pull him in. "What do you mean '_no'_?"

He grunted, but saw something else other than the feigned wrath of a dominatrix scorned. She looked _worried_. She must have noticed that his outburst was a little too genuine and wondered if she really was taking it too far. Unfortunately, he had no room to explain otherwise.

Archangel stood his ground at his mistress, keeping up a proud chin even as his erection strained to meet her clothed body. She let go of him suddenly, and with a wicked expression, filled the codpiece with some ice of an emptied drink not yet cleared and snapped it back in place. He screeched and the party burst out in laughter.

Garrus slammed his fists down onto the table and willed himself to get over it as the rest of the party howled and went about into another conversation. When he looked up, Shepard was watching him, leaned against a hand, considering him carefully.

"I'll kill you, you fucking _bitch_," he hissed, but he let hum through that a good-natured suggestion of a laugh that the others surely couldn't hear over their own rowdiness. He imagined that she understood it, and hoped that her face, so obscured from everyone but him, was now being warmed by a brief but none-the-less genuine smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Chapter one.

* * *

"_Shepard,"_ Kasumi's voice chimed over the comm. Garrus almost shot up in surprise, suddenly hearing the familiar tone from nowhere, but managed to reign it in.

She continued, _"The auction hall has opened. Bids are starting on the first half of the show, but our item isn't until the second half. I need you to get in there and give me a run-down of events while I work. There are people coming in and out of here and I need to know when they're going back into here while I crack this."_

The commander made a soft hum in acknowledgement and rose to leave, taking Garrus with her. The party crooned a little, displeased that they seemed to be leaving so soon, but one of them saw the time and squawked out that they needed to find some seats for themselves. She collected a displeased-looking Grunt and, with a little nudging by Garrus, Shepard was able to find an empty balcony seat above the auction stage.

"Grunt, you go ahead and look imposing at the entrance of the balcony. Garrus and I will keep watch over the event for now." When she strode out, they found that even though they were alone in this particular balcony, they didn't get much additional of a feeling of privacy. There were various occupied ones nearby, including one populated by many of the people from the table earlier. They recognized Alison and waved at her. She made a wave back and walked towards the back again.

"Kasumi, I'm about to go into silence right now; I'm too conspicuous to keep you up to date by voice, but I can send you updates via omni-tool."

"_No good," _Kasumi said back,_ "I can't pull up my omni-tool while I'm sneaking, Shepard. A bright, orange interface is going to get noticed immediately."_

"You don't even have a simple text-to-voice VI?"

"_I didn't exactly think I needed one, and its not like I can download one right now. Look, I'm sure it won't blow your cover if your talking to your slave while you look at the stage."_

"Actually," Garrus broke in lowly, "once we walk back out into the open, it's likely _Alison_ will be watched, out of curiosity if nothing else. Our covers are still too conspicuous, Kasumi; if Shepard goes out there and starts reporting events, someone will eventually notice the behavior and we very well might find ourselves in a fight before we intended one."

"_Oh, well... Ah! Can't you talk without looking like you're talking, Shepard?"_

"Huh?

"_Well, I've been to a couple underground auctions, and ones like these sometimes have people having a little too much fun with their human trafficking products until the good stuff comes out. That'll let you be as vocal as you want and still keep an eye on things, right?"_

Shepard's face turned white, and Garrus felt like how she looked. "Uh..."

"_I don't mean anything big. You could have Garrus pretend he's going down on you; that's easy enough to fake. Then, instead of abusing your adorable turian officer, you're could keep me up to date."_

Shepard groaned and strode out again with Garrus. "How the hell do you get such insane ideas?"

"_I might have had some interesting casings with Keiji. Besides, you two would be cute together."_

_What does that mean?_ he thought, but didn't dare say a thing as he followed his commander out. She turned to him, frowning.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," she reminded him. "You already got drugged more-or-less against your will."

He shook his head. "I told you you don't have to worry about making me uncomfortable. Besides, this is much better than making believe I hate you. How about you, though? I mean, your about to have some strange man's face centimeters from your privates for a mission."

"You're not a 'strange man', Garrus. But I would understand it if you didn't want to be sniffing at a human's genitals for an indeterminate period of time."

"Did you forget I've been in the turian military for several years? There's no way that could be any worse than sleeping in the barracks with the other young soldiers. It stank of stale sex and the sewage was always breaking."

She laughed, taking the hint, and took a moment to figure out how to best situate herself to look over the area. The decision settled on leaning over the ledge just slightly, oh-so causually, with her ass hitched enough to give her spine a curve. When she widened her legs a little to give him room to scoot in, he thought he'd faint.

As soon as he slid into position behind her, she started talking, "Okay, Kasumi. We're in position. They're showcasing a Phalanx with some illegal mods on it right now, but haven't started betting yet."

"_Good. Let me know when the betting starts, when it ends, when they go off stage to get another item, and when they come back. I'll be silent until I'm done, here."_

"Understood," Shepard said in her usual commander's voice. Garrus almost wanted to laugh. She was still the absolute professional even with a turian looking up her skirt.

And what a sight it was up her skirt. Her smooth, soft flesh begged to be touched, and he allowed himself to indulge that just a little bit, because why wouldn't he be gripping her hips a little as he worked? She jerked a bit, but continued with that same even voice as she continued noting details about the auction, the people, and the room itself. Grunt was also on the line, Garrus realized, and Shepard most likely figured that the most amount of information available to everyone about the situation, the better.

But it was a little difficult to focus on that for him when she smelled so... delicious. Not like a turian woman, to be sure, but did all humans smell this appealing? Or was it just Shepard? Her panties looked a little damp, and he remembered hearing about wetness for human women being a sign of arousal. Spirits, if she honestly was aroused by him...

He kept focused on her voice. If he can keep track of what she's saying, he's not distracted. "Another group has just come in from the lobby and they're going towards the front," she said, "They look pretty sloshed. No wonder there's so much substance thrown around; I bet the people running this show love it when the bidders are too drunk to realize how much money they're slapping each other with."

Shepard sounded pretty on top of it. He leaned his neck froward just slightly and nuzzled into the flesh of her thigh before he could stop himself. Her voice hitched a little and her legs jerked, but she kept on, so—hell—so did he.

He kept nuzzling the backs of her legs and slowly dipped between them, taking care to avoid that center that was so barred off from him with wet fabric. Her scent was fantastic, her legs felt like silk and muscle underneath his plates, and her words as she spoke were getting this lower drawl to them that lit him on fire. Some of her words ended a little too slowly, a little too seductively, but she was still going, and, damnit, he wanted to hear more. Could anyone deny how much of a fucking turn on it was to have Commander Shepard like this?

His tongue slipped out and tasted her thighs experimentally. Salty. Musky. She made a tiny gasp and that was all his control could bear. He laid into the flesh of her thigh, nuzzling, licking, nibbling, slowly moving closer and closer to her center before he'd switch to the other to do the same. Every time, he got a little nearer.

Shepard's voice was all over the place. Details of the auction were spat out through gritted teeth and sung through these beautiful whines he wanted to hear more of. Her thighs quaked about his head in need. Her scent deepened and the cloth above her private place was almost translucent with wetness. And slowly he inched towards his goal. He was almost there, about to scratch the fabric with his teeth, when she kicked away to get control of herself.

Almost against his own will, he responded with a vicious growl and grabbed her hips roughly, pulling her back into him. A hand pulled the underwear to the side with enough force that his gloved talons still tore a hole in them, and his tongue plunged into her.

"Ah! Fuck!" There was a strange bang in front of Shepard, and a creak as her hands gripped the side of the balcony too hard.

"_Shepard!" _Grunt's voice came over the comm. _"Is there an attack?"_

"No, there isn't an attack. I just, ah, slipped. Stay in your position," she hissed out between her own little growls and whimpers. She tried to get herself out of Garrus's grasp again, but he gripped harder and kept ruthlessly fucking her with his thick tongue like she was his first meal in weeks. After that, he'd admit he wasn't even keeping track of the report, anymore.

Until her hips wrenched out of his hands and her fist connected with his jaw. He flew back from her with as much shock as force.

In a second, she was on him, her face in his and pulling his cowl in a threatening manner, and he focused immediately on the large, red welt where she hit her head on the rails. "Kasumi is on the move, so we need to get to it as well. She left our equipment in a maintenance closet on this level." Her voice was all business. That shouldn't scare him, but it did.

He nodded, because there was no way he was going to be able to speak. As they exited the balcony, he heard a few cat-calls from the other balconies. Apparently, they had gained a little bit of an audience.

"Aw, she's going to give his punishment in private. Too bad!" one of them cried out.

Garrus shook his head. They didn't know the half of it.

Shepard collected Grunt and silently dragged Garrus to said maintenance closet. She gained entrance quickly; apparently the janitor's employer did these sorts of parties often enough to know the need of taking one's slave away from the general public when they beat them. Shepard nearly shoved him in and closed the door behind them.

He started apologizing immediately. "Shepard, I'm sorry, I don't know what-"

"I almost couldn't talk when someone went back towards Kasumi's position. She almost got caught because of what happened out there." She nearly ripped off the dress, but Garrus felt so mortified that he couldn't even pay attention to her lacy undergarments or her exposed waist. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair before she started to pulling on her underarmor. "I shouldn't have let you get drugged."

He didn't know what to say to that. He _couldn't_ say anything to that. He jeopardized the mission because of what he did. If Shepard hadn't been more professional than he was, the whole thing would have fallen through and one of their squad would be in a compromised situation. Drug or no drug, he didn't have an excuse. He put on his visor and checked over his guns, but what she said next made his blood run cold.

"Maybe I shouldn't bring you on the next few missions."

His head shot up, and he realized that his heart broke before he knew it could even happen. "It won't happen again," he pleaded, but she was turned away as she snapped on her ceramic plate "I'll report for latrine duty and whatever else once we return to the ship." _Anything_.

"Better safe than sorry," her voice sounded like a death toll. That was that.

In a different universe, he might have looked at her hips as she bent over to secure her greaves and tell her how much he'd like to take her in this godforsaken closet if it weren't for the press in time. Maybe she would have blushed and told him that if he could wait a bit, her cabin would be more accommodating once they get back. But in there here and now, all it did was remind him of his humiliation, and he looked away. _Or maybe I would have jumped on her like a fucking animal._

_She was enjoying it! _a part of his brain pointed out, and he put that voice down like it was a traitor. Shepard had to punch him to get him off. He endangered Kasumi and was grounded from combat missions as a result. If Shepard wanted to throw him off the _Normandy_ after this mission was over, he wouldn't be in a position to complain.

He wanted to say something, to make this right, but his mind was a blank. He merely followed her and Grunt as Kasumi prattled on her current coordinates. Everything was moving quickly, now. They hardly were in the hallway before barreling through and into a new area that looked to be a cargo hold of sorts. There was plenty of cover, plenty of hiding places, and every chance for an ambush.

The man running the whole show outside was there, and though he didn't recognize her when she was Alison Gunn, he knew Commander Shepard, dead or not, from the armor. "Well, well, well, a dead Spectre and a dangerous mercenary that nearly took Omega to it's knees. Why am I not surprised that the two of you joined up?"

"Just give up the prothean artifact, and you get to walk out of this alive," Shepard said, and for her, that was a very kind ultimatum.

"I don't think so," he said, then started to retreat, "You should have kept with your little exhibition outside! Kill them all!"

"They never take the easy route," Grunt said, and probably with a little too much krogan glee to it. They all rolled into cover and Shepard started yelling out orders.

The combat was typical. He watched Shepard's six. He would snipe a few and switched to assault when Shepard needed more press for a flank. Adrenaline was pumping, marks were falling with each raise of his scope, and he was feeling good. He could have forgotten the entire fiasco before.

Shepard's shields failed and a slug snagged her shoulder. She went into cover while her upgrades worked on it, then ran in the crouch to get to the shooter. Turns out that the owner had a pistol of his own... That Phalanx that Shepard had described earlier from the auction.

"Too bad you left to fuck your little Archangel before you saw _my_ new guard dogs." Garrus heard a bulkhead slide open somewhere, and the growls of varren jumped to his ears. Shepard cursed and some crates banged around.

"Damnit," he flung his sniper back and pulled out his assault again. She nor the animals were in sight of him.

"If you give up, I'll call them off!" The enemy called over the carnage. "The way you scream, I bet vids of you would go for a few creds!"

Garrus's head shot back towards him. His eyes focused on the man's gleaming teeth in his smile.

He blacked out.

* * *

His eyes focused on Shepard's face as she applied medigel to something that really stung his abdomen.

"What..." he tried to get up, but her hands pushed him back. He could see a varren corpse with its head lolled in an unnatural angle behind her.

"Let it seal, first. It's not..." Burning pain shot through him and he was out again.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: chapter one.

* * *

Next time Garrus opened his eyes, he was in the medbay for the _Normandy_. Chawkwas was working at her own terminal, and only looked up when he rose to a sitting position himself.

"Finally awake, I see." She stood from her seat and walked to his side. "What's the last thing you remember?"

He groaned. _Shepard's punch._ Other details filtered in after that thought. "It's a little fuzzy. We were in battle, there were some varren. At some point, Shepard was trying to get me back on my feet, but I don't remember standing."

"Well, you have the important parts. I'll give you a run-down: You shot out the teeth of a hostile with an assault rifle, then beat those two varren to death with the butt of it. One of those varren sliced up your front in the process, and when Shepard applied medigel to the wound, it reacted with a drug already in your bloodstream. The product was a common turian allergen, and shock took you out. After that, we picked you up, flushed your system, and kept you here to recover for about a day."

"Damn, and how about Shepard?"

"Her Cerberus upgrades had her healed before she got off the shuttle. She finished her mission on Illium and now we're at the Citadel. She's ashore right now, no doubt running a million errands."

"I see." He looked down a moment, then swung his legs over and stood. "If I'm cleared, could I..."

"I didn't say you were cleared, yet." She glared at him, but then she waved her hand, "But I have been keeping a monitor and a drip on you. Pick up something to eat while you're out: no junk food, sit down if you feel tired, and I advise against wearing armor for your typical extended duration."

"Sounds reasonable."

"And if Shepard is in a middle of a mission she got saddled with like she usually is, you report straight back."

"…Really?"

"You aren't cleared for combat until tomorrow. The commander herself suggested this yesterday and I happen to agree. We couldn't use medigel to patch you up until a few hours in, and even a turian feels the effects of blood loss."

He conceded, if only to get out of there quicker.

* * *

EDI helpfully provided an up-to-date report of Shepard's current coordinates and actions with little issue; it was easy enough to say he needed to know in case she actually was in a situation he shouldn't get involved with (and, against all odds concerning Shepard, it was lucky that she was just shopping and talking to various diplomats). When he finally caught up with her, she was having some sort of argument with a volus shopkeep.

She easily saw him as he approached, and she made a sign that it was alright to come up. The volus she was speaking to turned away in obvious distaste with whatever it was they were talking about, and Garrus was at her side in a second.

"I've got a few more things to do before going back. Walk with me?"

He nodded. "I heard you had a couple missions without me already."

"Hey, it's not like I neglected you; I came in and made sure you were still breathing from time to time. I guess you really were allergic to that drug."

He chuckled. "Not by itself, but our lifestyle wouldn't recommend further use of it."

Shepard laughed. "That's definitely true." Her eyes looked him up and down a moment, but they didn't meet his and ran away before he could try. "I've never seen you out of your armor before."

"The doctor recommended I don't wear it, though I think she's being a little dramatic."

"She tends to do that." They shouldered through a large group of aliens in the ward's halls. "I… really should apologize about the mission."

Garrus shook his head. "What had to be done…"

"No, you are my responsibility. I shouldn't have let you take that pill, or abused my authority like that, or punched you the way I did. I endangered you. I wounded you and took advantage when I should have been able to stop and consider different options."

He huffed enough to clatter his mandibles. Shepard making apologies wasn't something he was used to; when she made a decision, it was final, and any hindsight was pointless speculation. _Until that mission._ "For what it's worth, I didn't really feel taken advantage of."

"Really?" Her brows rose and she stopped walking to consider him. He stopped with her, figuring sooner was better than later.

"Yeah," he reached out and took hold of her armored hand. He could actually feel the coolness of the plate through the thinner cloth gloves. "There's never been anyone I respected in this galaxy more than you and, well, now that I have in my head all these… err… _possibilities_…"

Now an incredulous grin split her features. "Possibilities?"

"Yeah, like, uh, well…" He pulled his hand back suddenly and scratched the back of his neck. "I never really thought about it before. I mean, humans, but you're not just… it doesn't matter. And I was freaking out because I was afraid you'd notice… Not that being attracted to you is embarrassing, but, you know, I didn't want to do anything that might make you, uh…" He stopped his ramble and his shoulders dropped. "…uncomfortable."

"Hmm." She leaned forward and placed a small, soft kiss over his mouth, and his already-hammering heart just got another rush. "You should know by now you don't have to worry about making me uncomfortable, Garrus."

He took in a slow, deep breath to keep from gasping. Something going right for once in his life seemed too much to hope for, but damn did he want it, if only this time. "We've been repeating that phrase a lot, haven't we?"

She laughed and shook her head. "I'll admit, this wasn't the ideal method for me to let you know I was interested."

"Ideal method? Knowing you, I'm sure you would have cornered me with some seduction before I even knew what was going on, disarming me and putting me at a disadvantage."

"I would not have! You're not a _mark_, Garrus."

"Mhm, so you say, but you get bored unless you find a way to force battlefield tactics into it. I've seen how you fill out reports, Shepard. Hell, Gardner can even tell it was you who raided the mess during the night by how things were moved to specific locations to produce the quickest snack with the least noise and spillage in the pantry."

"Right. And how would you be going about it? Would you have preferred to come up to my cabin and offer to 'calibrate' me, instead?"

He snorted at her. "I haven't thought that far, but trust me, what I would have planned would have been perfect down to the wine and music, and you would have been swept off your feet."

"Well, in lieu of the wine, music, and strategic seduction, where do we go from here?"

"The doctor did say I should pick up something to eat… and now all I can think about is something delicious I tasted the other day, but someone punched me before I could finish."

"Now that you mention it, I am _parched_." She pulled up her omni-tool. "We could pick ourselves a nice little café…"

"Don't tease, Shepard."

Her expression was mischievous. "Bar, then?"

"The closest one is in a completely separate ward, and I know you're going to make us take the long way."

"Shadowy alcove a few meters away? …Garrus! Let go! I was joking!"

"I'm not," he tugged her in, then opened a thin door to a hidden corridor with his omni-tool.

"…Huh."

He couldn't help his cocky expression at her dead-pan amazement. "Not all my C-Sec clearances are defunct, yet. There are some maintenance walkways that are just big enough for officers that we use all the time. And, I happen to know that so long as we don't mess with any keepers, there's actually nothing officially illegal about using these for our purposes."

She laughed. "I doubt that."

"There are a lot of loopholes on the Citadel, so it's about time I took advantage of one." He pressed her in and attempted to kiss her.

Shepard made up for his lack of expertise in it by melting into his stiff lips and leading his tongue into action with her own. Her hands travelled over him, and once again, he was amazed by how she seemed to know what she was doing; she did say she was already attracted to him and intended to eventually tell him, so it wasn't odd that she would have done some research.

Yes, research. Like all the research he _hadn't_ done.

He pulled away from her suddenly. "Wait!"

She blinked at him and the sudden arms-length distance she found herself in. "What's wrong?"

"I have no idea what I'm doing. Well, I mean, I do have an idea, but I think I'm at a disadvantage, here. I know how to touch turian women, and I guess we're safe on the obvious part, but—"

"_Garrus_." She interrupted. "I'll let you know. My god, all I want right now is your cock, and you're still not even out and hard." Her hand glided over the crotch of his pants. "I'm starting to wonder why you were in such a hurry to get me into a keeper tunnel."

Instead of arguing further, he dived right back into her, nuzzling into her neck and searching for the seals of her armor. She made a grateful sound and helped him along to remove her armor. Eventually, he gave up and let his hands explore her exposed undersuit while she finished it off, which he was able to remove himself when she switched over to removing him of his own clothes.

His bare plates against her skin had exposed him to the most contact he'd ever had from a partner, for how her flesh molded to him and his angles. It was intimacy on a level he'd never really imagined before, and he was chanting anthems in his head trying to keep from getting overwhelmed by the new feelings. It wasn't something he was prepared for, not when he had a mission to ensure the pleasure of his commanding officer.

Oh, she liked his mouth on her neck quite a bit, and she made it clear that he had free reign to do what he wanted with his hands. She pressed her chest into him so needily when they found her breasts that he stayed there a while, rubbing, kneading, squeezing, and pinching. When his mouth replaced his fingers as those fingers went down to her center, she gave the most beautiful growl that it would have been unfair to compare her to a turian woman.

Shepard kept her hands busy as well, teasing and grasping every erogenous zone on a turian's body, and it was more than obvious that she'd done a lot of research leading up to this. It was when a finger came to trace his opening through the crotch of his pants that he finally had to stop his own progression along her body, reveling in how her human nail scratched ever so slightly against the widening edges of his plates. Soon, his member was pressing against the fabric, and Shepard's hand was cupping and pulling it at the other side of the thin barrier, coaxing him out.

Her nails dragged down the waist of his pants slowly, and he laid a great huff of breath into her nape when the very peak of him was exposed to the cool, circulated air of the Citadel. "Shepard..."

With a smooth movement, she dropped into a kneel and brought him into her mouth. In seconds, he was gasping and clawing at the wall behind him, trying to anchor himself with this sudden acceleration—and freefall—of sensation. He was effectively unconscious for what she did to him. Perhaps literally, too, because the next coherent observation he had that wasn't Shepard's tongue or Shepard's lips or Shepard's hands was that the wall he was leaning on was now floor, and his head was spinning.

Shepard looked down on him with startled, maybe even worried eyes, and a glistening mouth. It didn't help stop the spinning.

"Okay, we're going to have to get some of what you turians call food in you before we continue," she said as she helped him stand again. He grunted and shook his head, but she didn't look too upset with that satisfied smirk on her face.

"Maybe you're just that good, Commander. Anyway, I'm eager to show you how well I can keep up."

"Later." And he wasn't going to be allowed to argue, as she was already getting the armor back on. "We have a private cabin and everything to test that out on later."

And so they did, but eating in a restaurant nice enough to have tablecloths first had it's advantage.


End file.
